


Unalienable

by everhutcher



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, American Revolution, Eventual Smut, F/M, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-07-21 19:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7401445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everhutcher/pseuds/everhutcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss Everdeen is willing to do whatever it takes to save her country. She doesn’t realize that Peeta Mellark is just as willing to do whatever it takes to save her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is loosely inspired by the real-life heroism of a 16-year old American colonist named Sybil Ludington, who avoided British soldiers and Loyalists (a.k.a. Tories) to warn area Patriots of a British attack. Originally posted on Tumblr for D12 Drabbles Prompt 7 with a rating of T, but rated M here since this story will expand and likely involve sexy times for our star-crossed lovers. I do not own The Hunger Games or its characters, but I love writing them.

“Sir! They’ve taken the town!”

The exhausted scout was ushered to a bench in the commander’s tent as the officer called for some ale and bread for the young man.

“What is your name, Private?”

“Hawthorne, sir. Gale Hawthorne.”

The commander smiled knowingly. “I should’ve known by the look of you, boy. You’re one of Hern Hawthorne’s boys, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I knew your father well, Hawthorne. We fought side-by-side against the French near Fort William Henry. I was sorry to hear of his passing.” The younger man nodded in acknowledgment. “What is the news from Seamtown? Tell me everything you know.”

The tiny community, a key location in the colonists’ control of the Connecticut-New York border, had been overrun with British redcoats, the soldier explained. The British rounded up all the able-bodied men before the militia had even had a chance to mobilize. Gale had used his deep knowledge of the surrounding woods to slip quietly away on his horse without being detected.

The commander nodded. “You Hawthornes have always had a reputation for being as stealthy as Mohawk scouts in these parts. We’ll need that know-how when we send the militia in to rescue the town.”

Gale’s chest puffed with pride. “Whatever I can do to help the patriots, sir.”

“Alas,” sighed the older man, “we need to first get the word out to the militia. And your journey has been long and hard enough without sending you further into unknown territory. Lieutenant Darius!”

A junior officer peeked his head in from between the tent flaps. “Sir?”

“We must dispatch all available scouts at once to rally the militia.”

Darius blanched at the command and his response came out in a sputter. “But- but C-Colonel Everdeen, we have no messengers to spare. Most have already been dispatched on other matters, and there’s a bout of dysentery that made its way through the quarters of the remainder. The men are too ill to travel.”

“I’ll go,” came a quiet voice.

Gale looked around, puzzled; now that his eyes had adjusted to the shadows inside the tent, he could just make out a slip of a girl sitting in the corner farthest from him, whittling what appeared to be a wooden arrow.

“Katniss! Don’t be absurd,” replied the colonel.

Gale had his full attention on the young woman now, whose eyes snapped up to lock on the older man’s and were blazing with intensity. “Why not, father? I know the woods better than any of those boys. I can keep out of sight well enough. And no one will think to stop me. A simple girl.”

“Not for Patriot activity, no. But what if you’re set upon by bandits?”

“I have my bow, and I know how to guard myself from predators - no matter if they’ve four legs or two. Please, father.”

The colonel studied his daughter for a long minute or two, then swept across to his desk and grabbed a piece of parchment. Dipping his quill in the inkwell, he scratched out several hasty sentences and blotted the page before folding and sealing it with wax.

He held out the letter toward his daughter with a resolved look in his eyes. “Consider yourself conscripted, then, Soldier Everdeen. The future of these young United States depends on you.”

Katniss nodded solemnly and rose from her stool in the corner. The colonel explained her mission briefly as she took the parchment and headed out to gather supplies for the journey. If Gale hadn’t watched her leave, he would never have known she was gone, so silently did she move as she seemingly evaporated out of the tent.

“She’s a hunter as well, isn’t she?” Gale mused.

“I pray she remains so, Private,” replied her father. “If she isn’t, she will become the hunted instead.”

Katniss’s task wasn’t overly complicated on the surface. She needed to travel to Panem County and make contact with those who could call up the militia. The local volunteers were essential to the Continental army waging war against the British. Without the men who were willing to defend their towns throughout the thirteen former colonies, General Washington’s forces would have an even tougher time winning the war. Katniss knew that once the Panem militia knew of the attack on Seamtown, they’d stand up and fight, if for no other reason than their homes would be the redcoats’ next likely target.

Much more complex was the actual route Katniss would need to take, amounting to over 40 miles on foot start to finish, with the goal of avoiding detection both by redcoat patrols and Tory residents.

She also didn’t anticipate the downpour that erupted just after sundown.

The rain worked to disorient Katniss, who strayed from her usual hunting path through the forest and found herself much too close to the main square of Panem Village. Spinning about to scurry away, she lost her normally sound footing and splashed into a frigid puddle. She yelped. Cursing herself for letting her fatigue get to her this way, she pulled herself from the water, but not before realizing that her leather pack, which contained her food and flint, had gone missing. The broken strap dangling from her shoulder sparked a vague memory of being snagged on some wild thorns during the chaos. She was all but certain her supplies were decorating those brambles a mile or two back.

As if her luck couldn’t get worse, now she found herself, wet, shivering, and staring at the back of the spacious home of one of the most prominent Tories in the county. Katniss swore under her breath.

Ammon Mellark was known to quarter many of the British army’s top officers on a regular basis. The very people she was trying to avoid were just a few yards away, settling in for the night, and Katniss could not afford to draw any more attention to herself. She had to move quickly.

“Katniss? Katniss Everdeen?” A man’s voice behind her caused Katniss to jump to her feet, reaching for the dagger tucked in her boot. She clutched the blade and swung wildly at the dark figure that had approached before realizing he was holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Woah there!” he chided, in a tone that suggested no malice, even as he stepped within arm’s length of her.

He was either a fool, or a friend.

Katniss’s grey eyes widened as they met the brilliant blue eyes of Ammon’s youngest son, Peeta. He was no stranger to her, having been schoolmates as children. But the rising tide of war had pushed friends apart, family loyalties taking precedence over neighborly niceties. Katniss hadn’t seen Peeta in nearly three years.

Were it not for those eyes, the spindly, gawky boy she remembered was almost unrecognizable to her. After Peeta’s oldest brother had been killed at Ticonderoga and the middle son joined the British army, Peeta stepped up to help run the family mill. Years of lifting heavy bags of flour had given Peeta muscle mass that Katniss found mildly distracting.

“Why are you out here in the dead of night?” Peeta crooked his fingers toward her with a shy smile as if to encourage her to follow him. Katniss might have indulged further in the sight of her handsome former friend, had her mission not been so much at the forefront of her mind.

She glanced at the house, and the lights burning from the downstairs windows where the elder Mellark was probably entertaining the redcoats. Realizing the danger she was in, Katniss grabbed Peeta’s hand and yanked him to the ground behind the shrubbery with her.

“Shhhhhh!” She hissed. She narrowed her eyes at him and pointed a finger close to his face. “Peeta, you never saw me here.”

Ignoring her warning, Peeta smiled playfully as he grabbed her pointer finger, then took her entire hand in his, turning it over. Dumbfounded, Katniss didn’t protest as Peeta gently pried the dagger from her other hand. Now holding both her hands in his, he began to briskly rub warmth into them. “Katniss, you’re soaked through and it’s after nightfall. Please, come inside.”

For a second, Katniss indulged in the soothing sensation of Peeta’s large, warm hands bringing the circulation back to her numb extremities. She looked at the young man in front of her and recalled days before the war. Bright, warm sunshine in the Mellarks’ garden. And old rope swing and carefree giggles between young friends. Smiles and winks exchanged during stuffy dinner parties. Katniss had been considered an odd girl, what with her fascination with nature and hunting. Peeta never minded any of that. After all, he was the boy who was more concerned with art than athletics.

If only they could back to those simpler times.

The moment was short-lived, however, as Peeta repeated his plea. “Come, Katniss.”

Katniss shook the pleasant memories from her consciousness. “Please don’t ask me to do that. I shouldn’t be here at all.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked again.

Katniss shook her head vehemently. “Better that you don’t know. We were friends, once.”

Her cryptic response set off warning bells in Peeta’s head. “I’d like to think we still are. What are you caught up in, Katniss?” he asked slowly.

“Just let me go.”

Peeta watched her with fearful eyes. “I - I can’t.”

Her gaze faltered. “Then all will be lost.”

It killed Peeta to see Katniss’s shoulders slump in some kind of personal defeat that he couldn’t understand. Life had seemed so much easier for both of them a few years ago. He thought back to the days before the war, when the Everdeens and Mellarks had been on good terms. Peeta recalled how Mr. Everdeen had even taken the youngest Mellark under his wing, trying to teach him to hunt, though he never achieved the skill Katniss did. Katniss and her father had been particularly close in a way that made Peeta envious, not maliciously, but with the longing that came from knowing his own relationship with his parents was not as solid. He missed the times he’d spent with them.

Understanding began to dawn as Peeta continued to think of Mr. Everdeen. He’d heard Katniss’s father had risen quite high in the ranks of Washington’s army. Whatever Katniss was involved in, she had to be doing it for him.

“Wait here,” Peeta whispered with sudden urgency, as he scrambled to his feet and scurried back toward the house. Katniss grabbed at his retreating form in vain.

She pounded her fists on the ground in frustration. He was going to report her to his Tory parents, surely. She pondered what might become of her if she were to be arrested by the redcoats. They would not excuse her offense on account of her sex; if anything, her punishment might take on a more offensive form than just some time in a jail cell. Katniss swallowed thickly at the thought. She was not unaware of what went on between men and women after a certain age, but with the exception of a stolen kiss or two, she remained innocent enough. If she were to be caught by anyone lacking scruples when it came to a woman’s virtue… Katniss pushed down the briefest swell of panic.

Where could she go now without being tracked? The ground was muddy and would make quick work for any soldiers hunting her down. She’d need to get back to the nearby creek that ran by the mill, to wade in and make her path unclear.

Before she could act, the back door of the house opened again, and Katniss ducked down as the light spilled from the doorway. She held her breath as she saw Peeta emerge.

And no one else.

Peeta was still alone. He seemed to be looking over his shoulder back at the house as he quietly crept across the yard, hunched over with his arms crossed over his chest as if clutching something.

When he reached her, he seemed to let out a held breath of his own. “You’re still here. Thank God.” He reached inside his coat and before she could see it she could smell it. Fresh bread, probably just baked in the Mellark ovens.

Peeta held a loaf in each hand and pushed them toward her.

“I also managed to swipe one of my father’s best bottles of rum for the soldiers. They’ll be good and sauced in no time.” Katniss looked at him, puzzled. “No condition to chase after you, silly,” he explained. “Now, go.”

“Wh-what?” she sputtered, still trying to understand this turn of events.

“Get out of here. Run!”

Katniss didn’t hesitate a moment longer. She could contemplate Peeta’s motives later. She rose up on her heels and did as he told her, her legs pumping as fast as they could.

His voice rang out again. “Katniss!”

Against her better judgment, Katniss stopped. She turned just as Peeta ran up from behind her.

“Peeta -”

Her next words were stopped by his lips, which pressed into hers with a gentle firmness that only Peeta Mellark could manage. His kiss was neither the bruising kiss she’s received from Elias Cato last summer nor the slobbery kiss of Jack Marvel during a Christmas party with her father’s officers.

Peeta’s kiss was, in a word, perfect.

He pulled back but leaned his forehead against hers, his stare doing funny, fluttery things to Katniss’s stomach. “Stay alive,” he whispered in a strained tone, before taking her head in his hands and planting one more sound kiss to her forehead.

Katniss remained rooted to her spot, stunned by his bold actions. He shook her slightly and stooped a bit to look her in the eye.

“Go!”

Katniss nodded as the urgency in his voice snapped her out of her swirling thoughts. She turned on her heel and dashed toward the woods, not thinking once to look back for any threats behind her.

She didn’t need to. Somehow, she knew Peeta Mellark would protect her.


	2. Chapter 2

As hazy moonlight slowly broke through the rainclouds, Peeta watched the meadows as long as he could see Katniss scurrying away into the night. With the sweetness of her mouth still lingering on his lips, he fought the panic that rose in his chest, the intense urge to follow her. He was still baffled as to her purpose for even being there in the first place, but his brain won out over his heart, knowing that the best way to help Katniss was to stay behind and make sure she wasn’t followed.

The last hour continued to mystify Peeta; typically everything about Katniss always had, if he was going to be honest with himself. For a moment, he couldn’t believe the good fortune which had brought the elder Everdeen daughter to him. The elation, however, had quickly dissolved into confusion and concern as Peeta realized that Katniss was obviously not making a social call.

Those days were long over.

It wasn’t either of their faults. Peeta knew how much their fathers had struggled in the days before the war, fighting to maintain some grasp on their longstanding friendship in spite of the stark contrast between their political views. Ammon Mellark and Jeremiah Everdeen had grown up together in a climate of fierce devotion to the ideals of Britain’s parliamentary monarchy. It was only after fighting side-by-side in the Seven Years’ War, when war debt brought heavy taxation upon the colonies, that a rift began to develop between the men. Jeremiah began to read voraciously from the writings of men like Thomas Paine and others who called for “no taxation without representation.” Ammon believed that their oath to their King came above all else. British society was, after all, a far more free and just system than many others of its time.

The differences between the Everdeens and the Mellarks ultimately would not be overcome. Over time, the close friendship dissolved into cool politeness at social functions and church services, until the men often met with no more than a nod of the head.

Meanwhile, their children’s relationship deteriorated as well. Peeta’s heart clenched at one of his final memories of Katniss. It was Christmastime, and the newly-dubbed “patriots” had recently boarded British vessels in Boston to destroy their cargoes of tea. The “tea party” had been lauded by men like Jeremiah but decried by Ammon and others, making for particularly tense social functions throughout the holiday season.

At 15, Peeta had been thinking more and more about girls, and especially Katniss, who for months had only acknowledged him with surreptitious glances and the rare, smallest of smiles. At Christmas services, Peeta sat mesmerized by Katniss’s voice as she led the congregation into carol after carol. He couldn’t help but think his only Christmas wish would be some small sign of affection from Katniss. He missed their easy friendship and his heart ached at the thought that she might not miss him. 

He just wanted one sign, and it looked as if he might finally have his chance to see if she felt the same way. After the Christmas Eve service, Mayor Undersee had again invited both the Mellarks and the Everdeens to be among a handful of families to his home for dinner. And Peeta knew just where he’d find Katniss. He claimed a flimsy excuse of needing to relieve himself in order to escape his mother’s scrutiny, then hastily worked his way back through the house, to the kitchen.

It was their favorite Christmas Eve tradition since they were both old enough to walk and talk. Hovering over the old cook, Sae, as she prepared the annual menu, they’d try to dip a finger or two into the mince pie with rum butter, grab a handful of spiced cranberries, or nab whatever else was there for the taking. Sae always called the pair her little scavengers, and while Peeta was always able to charm a taste from Sae with a few compliments, it was Katniss who had mastered sneaking a bite or two from the best dishes while Sae had her back turned. Either way, they always got the first taste of Christmas dinner.

Tonight, Sae was nowhere to be found, likely having gone to the cellar to retrieve a cask of ale. But that didn’t matter, as Peeta found what he wanted most; Katniss, with a spoonful of plum pudding just hovering from her mouth, curling up with a guilty smile. “Just in time,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief. They were her first words to Peeta in months and his heart swelled at how she spoke, as if no time at all had passed between them.

Peeta approached the long wooden table and Katniss offered him the spoon. Peeta shook his head and made a sweeping bow to her. “Ladies first,” he said, deepening his voice with mock seriousness.

Katniss returned the gesture with a flutter of her hand near her heart. “Why, thank you, sir!” she replied in a singsong voice. Returning to her normal tone of voice, she narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “I’m only 13, Peeta. I’m not a lady yet. Buwt hack yuh.” Her expression of gratitude was muffled by the spoon, which she had promptly shoved into her mouth, and Peeta laughed. Peeta had always liked that Katniss wasn’t concerned about appearing dainty or delicate.   


As Katniss went for another scoop, Peeta took the spoon from her and held it above her head as she jumped to reach it. “My turn, you greedy little goose!” he chided her. Katniss giggled, and he beamed with pride at having made her laugh. He turned slightly to keep the spoon away and rammed it into his mouth in triumph as they laughed together.

As their laughter died down a moment later, Katniss continued to gaze up at him with a smile that lit up her smokey gray eyes like a yule log ablaze in the hearth. She was utterly lovely. “Merry Christmas, Kat,” he said, and he was sure the adoration in his eyes was obvious.

“Merry Christmas, Peeta,” she replied shyly. Her eyes flitted away bashfully for a moment, then locked on his again.

Peeta took a deep breath. “Katniss, I --”

A loud bang and a shout of “Peeta Mellark!” made the pair jump. They swung around to be confronted by the dark scowl of Mrs. Mellark, who stood red-faced in the kitchen doorway.

“I should have known you would be carousing with this so-called Patriot trash,” she grumbled as she swept into the room and grabbed Peeta by the ear. Peeta yelped in pain and Katniss reached for Mrs. Mellark’s arm before being stopped with a withering glare from the older woman. “I can’t stop the mayor from inviting trash like you into his home, but you will stay away from my son. He doesn’t need to be influenced by your father’s rebellious ways.”

“Mother -”

“Enough out of you, Peeta! You will remember that we Mellarks understand loyalty and devotion.” Peeta cried out as Mrs. Mellark tugged on his ear again, essentially leading him out of the kitchen that way. After a silent and tense dinner, Peeta was forced to remain with the men in the study while the women retired to the drawing room.

Peeta never saw Katniss again. Until tonight, when she appeared behind his house, shivering and on the run.

He knew his father had no personal grudge against any Everdeen. But he also had a loyalty to the Crown which would allow him to set aside any feelings of guilt over handing the daughter of his oldest friend to the redcoats. Peeta’s mother had been a hundred percent correct when she said the Mellarks understood devotion.

Peeta’s devotion to the Crown, however, paled in comparison to his devotion to Miss Katniss Everdeen.

Peeta looked around the yard to be sure there were no signs that Katniss had been there, even a trace of a tiny footprint, then he hurried back to the house, praying no one had missed him.

As he re-entered the house, he pulled up short. His father was in the kitchen. Ammon was bent over the hearth, putting a kettle back on its hook over the flames, a mug of tea in his other hand.

Had he seen anything?

Ammon straightened up as he heard the back door swing shut with a creak, and smiled at Peeta. “And what took you out of doors at such a late hour, son?” he asked with no hint of suspicion as far as Peeta could see, just idle curiosity.

Peeta swallowed heavily and tried to smile, faltering just slightly. “The rain made everything so cool and fresh outside, father. I just wanted some air.”

“A lot of hot air in there with all that war talk, eh?” Ammon chuckled, gesturing with his thumb toward the front room, where Peeta had left his parents taking supper with British officers. Peeta laughed along nervously at the thought of the redcoats so close to discovering Katniss. 

“Look, son, I know you are not in favor of war - who really is - but sometimes your mother and I think we might’ve raised a Quaker.”

Peeta shook his head at the familiar refrain. “I’m no pacifist, father. I just want to be sure that if I fight, it’s worth the price. War changes men.”

Ammon sighed heavily. “Well, with your brothers both gone now, I don’t suppose we’ll have to come to a head on that matter anytime soon. I need you too much here at home to see you enlist. And as long as we keep supplying the army with grain from our mill, I have Commander Crane’s assurances that you won’t be conscripted, either.”

Commander Seneca Crane and his two assistants were a trio of overfed, overprivileged dandies as far as Peeta was concerned. They came from some of London’s finer families and from what Peeta could discern from the few conversations they’d had with him, had essentially bought their commissions. Now they were constantly underfoot, eating the Mellarks’ food, sleeping in the warmest rooms of the house, and being ungracious guests at every turn. But Ammon and his wife were thrilled to have the privilege of housing such esteemed gentlemen, who seemed to regard this war as little more than a game of sport.

Peeta hated the so-called noblemen, but didn’t dare voice his feelings aloud in case his parents should feel the brunt of any backlash. The best he could do was implore his father in as neutral a way as possible, as he had many times before. “I don’t want you to be indebted to anyone on my account, father. Least of all such powerful men.”

Ammon dismissed Peeta’s words with a wave of his hand. “It’s nothing, Peeta. Crane knows how necessary you are here at home. But… you might show a little more grace toward him and the other officers while they are quartered here.” Ammon looked at Peeta pointedly.

Chagrined, Peeta scratched the back of his neck without knowing how to respond. Finally he muttered, “Have I been that obvious?”

“Only to your mother and myself. But the officers will be here for the foreseeable future, and I need to count on you to be as good a host as you can be. These men have a duty to do for God and King, just as we do.”

“I’ll try to do better, father. I promise.”

Ammon walked over to Peeta, and reached up to ruffle his hair. “Good lad.” He looked around as if in search of something. “Now, where did that fruit and nut bread get to? I set some out earlier and was hoping to have a bit of that blackberry jam your mother made.”

“Oh... um, it seemed stale, father, so I took it out and fed it to the pigs.”

“The pigs? Stale? Hm,” Ammon replied. “I hadn’t noticed. Oh well, best not to fill my stomach right before retiring to bed anyhow. Likely to have a bellyache in the morning if I do. I just can’t resist that blackberry jam.” Ammon turned to go. “Goodnight, boy.”

“Goodnight, father.” Peeta breathed a sigh of relief. Leave it to his father to never mind any missing food, as Ammon was often the cause of treats disappearing from the pantry himself.

“And, Peeta… lock up the house for me? You never know who might be out there these days.”

Peeta nodded even though his father was already retreating from the kitchen. He didn’t dare admit that he already knew who might be out there; and without knowing where she was headed, he was quickly becoming sick with worry about her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss completes her mission... but a new one makes itself apparent when she realizes the extent of the risk Peeta has taken for her.
> 
> I do not own The Hunger Games or its characters, but I love writing them.

Once she’d crossed the meadow adjacent to the Mellark home Katniss continued westward, quickly finding her way to a creek which she knew, further upstream, ran past the Mellarks’ mill. If her memory served right, the stream would wind its way down toward the mighty Hudson River; and with it, closer to her goal of alerting the militia.

The shallow creek, as Katniss suspected, provided the perfect cover to obscure her path until she could consider herself safely far enough from the Mellarks' home. The frigid water, however, did nothing but exacerbate the chill already soaking into her bones from the earlier rain. Only Peeta’s gift provided Katniss any comfort, the warm loaves tucked hastily down her blouse. The urgency of the mission meant she couldn’t stop, and even if she did, she would only draw attention to herself by building a fire. Better to keep moving and be that much closer to the end of her journey come daybreak.

But as the night sky started to acquire the gray tones that signaled the coming sunrise, and Katniss desperately fought off the need for sleep, she found her mind wandering further and further from her mission. Her body was moving toward the Continental camp by instinct rather than deliberation, while her thoughts kept going back to her earlier interaction with Peeta.

Though she never in her life doubted that Peeta was a caring and decent boy, Katniss marveled at the risk the youngest Mellark had taken to help her. His parents were ardent Loyalists. If they were to discover his part in her mission, even a part as small as some bread, there could be dire consequences. No matter how well-connected his parents were, there would be little he could do to avoid punishment. Her former friend would suffer for helping her.

Not former, she amended in her mind. Peeta’s help had proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he continued to be her friend this whole time, in spite of the rift between their families. 

No, there was no doubt in her mind that Peeta still cared for her. The way he'd said goodbye only cemented that belief.

Even now, the scents of cinnamon and dill still seemed to linger in her nostrils, and the taste of vanilla on her lips, long after the tingling of her swollen mouth had faded. She continued to think of him as she took one of the loaves from where it lay nestled against her pounding heart. It was a small loaf, but dense, and Katniss knew this bread well. Full of nuts and fruit, she and Peeta shared bread just like this many times. Memories flooded her mind as the faint warmth that lingered in the bread filled her mouth. 

Jeremiah Everdeen began allowing Peeta to come around the house before Katniss had even started school, knowing his old friend was far too busy running the mill and the bakery to spend much time with his youngest boy. Meanwhile, Ammon wanted Peeta to pick up some useful skills from Jeremiah, so Peeta would join the Everdeens on hunting excursions. Though Peeta walked through the woods with the stealth of a herd of sheep, Katniss found herself liking the humble, golden-haired boy almost immediately. 

And despite being a few years older than her, Peeta never once talked down to her; he’d been a kind friend who always took her side against the schoolmates who teased her and her tomboyish ways. Instead of demanding she be more dainty, he’d challenge her to footrace or a tree-climbing contest. Peeta had always been there for Katniss. 

She missed those days. The purity of those times. The peace. But Peeta’s warm smile and warmer heart hadn’t changed a bit in the time they’d been apart.

Katniss finished her portion of bread and shook her head clear of her reminisces. Mission at hand. It was one thing to risk her own neck out here; but she couldn’t daydream the night away, and let the risk that Peeta took for her count for nothing. She couldn’t let down her father, nor his men. They were all depending on her. 

Her father had made her objective clear. With the Seamtown militia no longer acting as a buffer, the British could close ranks throughout Panem County and force the Patriots to lose their foothold on the Hudson. Colonel Everdeen’s forces were one of two units at the ready in the area. Katniss’s target was the second company, comprised of enlisted men and militia under Captain Finnick Odair. Together, they might stand a chance against the British force as it left Seamtown, before it joined up with the garrison at Panem Village.

Katniss slowed her steps as her ears picked up the sounds of footfalls other than her own. Gathering what little of her skirt that wasn’t already clinging to her legs, Katniss looked around until she spotted what she needed. Then hoisting herself onto a low-hanging branch of a nearby tree, she scrambled up two more branches and crouched quietly, trying to control her breath as two figures emerged into her field of vision below.

They made the perfect matching pair; nearly identical in size and shape, even if they hadn’t been wearing the same blue Continental Army uniforms. One had dark hair cropped close, and the slight beginnings of a beard; his brother, and it was clear they were related, had lighter hair pulled back and tied at the back of his head. 

But they were both terrible scouts, she concluded with a scowl; the pony-tailed one was even whistling a tune. 

Katniss clung to the branch and swung herself down, landing directly behind them. Before they could process what had happened, she had her bow drawn on them.

The scouts immediately threw their hands in the air in surrender, abandoning their muskets altogether, and Katniss shook her head. “And they gave you uniforms,” she muttered, relaxing her bow but still holding it at the ready by her side. “You’re Continentals,” she observed, a slight question at the end of her statement. 

The one with the sandy hair nodded immediately. The dark-haired brother put his arm out to shush him. “Pollux, let me,” he whispered. “Who’s asking?” The slight shake in his voice betrayed the confidence he was trying to exude, even though Katniss still clearly had the upper hand.

“I have a message for your captain. From the unit near Seamtown.”

The soldiers both eyed her warily, but the dark-haired one finally nodded curtly. “This way.”

As dawn broke, Katniss waited impatiently outside an officer’s tent very much like her father’s. She strained to hear the conversation inside.

“Captain Odair, the scout claims to be from Colonel Everdeen’s encampment.”

“The 12th, eh?” came the response, in a soft Irish accent. “Hm. That’s 40 miles away through redcoat territory. And he says he traveled all night, Lieutenant Homes?”

“Doesn’t that seem nearly impossible, Captain? How can we trust that he even is who he says he is?”

The commander of the 4th Regiment peered up from the maps spread before him. “We’ve already allowed this scout into camp, thanks to the usual brilliance of Castor and Pollux. Might as well hear what he has to say now. And if we think he’s a Tory spy, we’ll deal with him accordingly. Agreed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Send him in, Lieutenant.”

A young officer, presumably Homes, swept out from the tent and pulled up short at the sight of the young woman impatiently waiting for someone to finally acknowledge her. He looked around, eyes narrowed in confusion. “I was looking for the scout brought in earlier,” he muttered. “Have you see him?”

“You’re looking at him,” she replied, lifting her chin proudly. “Or I should say, her. Soldier Katniss Everdeen, on behalf of Colonel Jeremiah Everdeen.”

Looking startled, Homes nevertheless pulled the tent flap aside and gestured for her to enter. He took in the unusual sight of this tiny girl, armed with bow and arrows, rain-splattered dress still hanging heavily on her slight frame, and wondered how long they had rudely kept her waiting in such discomfort. “I’ll have someone fetch you dry clothes,” he mumbled awkwardly as he began to take his leave.

Katniss’s countenance softened slightly at the show of kindness. “Thank you very much, Lieutenant.” Homes merely grunted as he left her alone with the captain.

As she turned to finally look at Captain Odair, Katniss was momentarily surprised by the youth of the officer before her. She’d expected him to be more like her own father; old enough, at least, to match the wisdom of someone who had such a strong reputation among the Continental Army’s ranks. Instead, the captain was barely beyond his teen years and under any other circumstances, in any other place, she might have mistaken him for some society dandy. Bronze-hair and a brilliant white smile, green eyes so bright they looked almost unreal belied a charm and slight arrogance that Katniss did not find entirely off-putting. In fact, Katniss amused herself with the notion that Finnick Odair had only to speak to the redcoats and they’d throw their weapons at him in surrender. 

Finnick sat behind his desk as dropped not one, but three, spoonfuls of sugar into a cup of strong, steaming coffee. He eyed Katniss with mild amusement as he poured a second cup. “How do you take your coffee, soldier?”

“Black, thank you.”

Finnick chuckled. “Why does that not surprise me.” 

Katniss shrugged slightly. “Coffee is good for an early morning hunt. Sugar and cream are not so convenient.”

“So true.” He nudged the cup toward her. “Please, join me.” Katniss seated herself on the other side of the desk and took the cup in her hands without sipping, grateful just for the warmth against her chilled skin.

“Secrets are a valuable commodity,” Finnick mused as he watched Katniss with curiosity. “They are priceless, really, especially in time of war. One needs people around who can keep secrets when doing this line of work. So, while my junior officers may gape like dying fishes at a young woman spy, I think it’s brilliant. Now, the fact that the colonel sent his own daughter, untested, to me as a scout? An even bolder move. Quite unorthodox.” He flashed those white teeth and Katniss bristled slightly at the perceived insinuation that her father’s decision may not have been a sound one.

“It was the only move we had, given the circumstances, Captain,” Katniss replied curtly.

Finnick nodded, his expression sobering somewhat. “Indeed. And I admire it, I assure you.” Katniss titled her head once in acknowledgement of the apology in his tone. Finnick took a long draught from his cup. “Tell me what you know, soldier, and how can I help.”

Barely an hour later, the call had already gone out for the minutemen, and Finnick left Katniss to rest while he readied his unit. He held the tent flap open to allow a young woman to enter with a change of clothing for Katniss and a tray of food. Katniss’s keen hunter’s eye didn’t miss the tender smiles exchanged between them. Nevertheless she was surprised when the woman,  Annie, introduced herself as Finnick’s wife. Annie chuckled at Katniss’s look of mild disbelief.

“I know he comes across as quite the flirt, but it’s mostly an act,” Annie said in a soft brogue as she helped Katniss out of her wet gown. “His confidence is like nothing I’ve ever seen in another man. But he isn’t arrogant. He just knows if he shows the men that he has no fear, that it will inspire them to follow suit.”

“You seem to love him very much,” Katniss observed as Annie handed her clean, dry undergarments. Annie nodded. “Is it hard to be a soldier’s wife?”

“Well, you are a soldier’s daughter. I imagine it’s not too different.”

Katniss shook her head. “I think it must be quite different. I love my father dearly, but... the way my mother loves him… well, I don’t think she’d survive if this war took him from us.”

Annie smiled sadly. “We are all soldiers in this war, just in different ways. We must all do our part, make whatever sacrifices are necessary to win our liberty.”

“You and the captain - you are not British.” It was both a question and a statement.

Annie stared at the folded dress in her hands as her face took on a sadness that Katniss suspected ran very deep. “Life in Ireland is not easy. At least here, you colonists have opportunities. Land. Food. A chance to reinvent oneself. Finnick and I, well, we grew up in the same village. Pox wiped out most of his family, though his old Auntie Mags survived, just barely. I cooked and cleaned for the both of them when I could help. But when Finnick had the chance to leave he grabbed onto it, even though it mean indentured servitude.” 

She shrugged, then looked Katniss directly in her eyes. “We already felt like slaves back home. At least this way, there'd be an end to that road. Finnick bought his freedom, then sent for me.”

“And his Auntie Mags?”

Annie shook her head. “She wouldn’t leave. Truth be told, I'm not sure she could have survived the journey. She told me that Finnick and I needed to make a new life. A fresh start. She told me to never look back. We were married almost as soon as I stepped off the ship. And now, we have a chance at real freedom. A chance to fight for it. That’s more than we ever had back home. For my part, I can make sure no one around me goes without a warm meal.” 

Annie gestured to the desk where she’d brought Katniss some stew and thick, dark bread. Suddenly ravenous, Katniss sat down in the captain’s chair to eat, letting her eyes wander over the papers still strewn across the table. Glancing at one large map, the outline of Panem Village caught and held her eye. “Peeta,” she breathed.

Katniss’s mission was officially over. She wasn’t privy to what would come next, certainly not from Finnick, anyway. But she knew whatever the details, they were going to lead to a confrontation with the redcoats. She prayed Peeta would not end up in the middle of it.

If the battle played out as expected, Panem Village would be safe. The redcoats would leave the village to meet the Patriots and the battle wouldn’t reach anyone in town.

Still, doubt lingered in Katniss’s mind. What if the Patriots didn’t act quickly though? What if the British rallied at the village instead, bringing the battle close to the townsfolk? 

The village glared at her from the map.  _ You fool _ , she admonished herself. She could have at least warned Peeta that trouble was on its way, couldn’t she? He selflessly helped her, and she couldn’t have the decency to at least tell him to be wary. 

But what about now? Her message was, in fact, delivered. The captain was mobilizing his men at that very moment. 

Peeta lived in a Tory household and everyone in Panem County knew it. A young, strong, Tory son capable of fighting this war would be a likely target of the Patriots. The British might protect him, but at what price? Katniss wasn’t sure whose custody would be a worse fate, but both terrified her.

She needed to get to Peeta; she could protect him from the Patriots with her connections to her father, the colonel. If necessary, she could protect him from the redcoats with her bow.

Sensing her distress, Annie laid a hand on Katniss's forearm. Katniss flinched from the contact. “I’m sorry," Annie whispered haltingly. "It’s just, you seem uneasy.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You said a name.” Katniss flushed and turned her head quickly. Annie’s next question came out gently, soothingly. “Is he your beau?”

“No, no.” Katniss brushed her fingertips across her lips. “Peeta... he's an old friend. I think he’s in danger.”

Annie turned away and began to straighten a coat draped over one of the other chairs in the tent. “During war, every woman worries over the men they care for. Beau or not, I know that look in your eye. This Peeta is important to you.”

Katniss looked up at Annie imploringly. “Your husband plans to send me back to my family home. Do you know if the escort is ready?”

“No, but I can go and check.” Annie made to go, but turned back a second later, her gaze sharp. “Will you be all right, left here alone, with no one to watch you?”

Katniss nodded. “I know what to do.”

Annie smiled. “Katniss... I hope your friend will be all right.”

“Thank you, Annie.” 

When Annie returned several minutes later, the tent was empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! I've been swamped with life things, but finally had the time to polish off this third chapter. Hope you've enjoyed it. Chapter 4 is in the works!


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